


Fake

by yeaka



Category: Bee Movie (2007)
Genre: F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 06:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30051165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: There’s a new bee? in town.
Relationships: Barry Benson/Vanessa Bloome
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Fake

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Bee Movie or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Two years in to the best relationship of Barry’s life, his girlfriend’s doorman still doesn’t recognize him, so he has to flitter in through the cracked-open living room window instead. To be honest, he doesn’t totally mind, because it’s more _exciting_ that way: like the first time they met, or an illicit affair. Any nobody in Vanessa’s life can stroll in through the front door, but her little honey bee has his own secret entrance.

After a frankly-too-long visit with his parents—who do accept his lifestyle but _still_ keep dropping hints about his successful second cousin, who’s single _and_ a bee—Barry buzzes up through the clear blue sky and right to the prettiest floral arrangement on the block: even Vanessa’s windowsill screams _florist_. It’s one of the oh-so-many things he loves about her. He takes a split second to sniff her new daffodils before slipping under the glass and into the warm, lavender scent of their shared apartment. 

He calls, “Honey, I’m home!” and makes for the kitchen, only to stop halfway in the air, eyes darting to the couch.

Yellow-black always catches his eye. It’s his favourite colour combination, after all. He loves that Vanessa’s adopted it into her style, often matching her shoes and purse and even earrings to go with Barry’s immaculate wardrobe. But the _thing_ plopped down on the center cushion is whole different ballgame. 

Barry slowly draws closer, as mesmerized as he once was by the light bulb in the ceiling lamp. He barely even hears Vanessa calling back, “Coming!”

He’s still a few dazed centimeters away from its beady black eyes when she rounds the corner. When she reaches his side, towering over both him and the imposter, he swirls around to incredulously ask, “What’s _this_?”

“Isn’t it cute,” Vanessa answers, smiling so beautifully, so brightly, that it manages to quell some of Barry’s horror. “I saw it in a shop window on the way home and just had to have it!”

“But... _why_?” He doesn’t understand. He gestures vaguely at its lumpy body, its fuzzy hide, its appalling bulbous shapelessness and the two rod-straight pipes sticking out of its maybe-head.

“Because it’s a bee,” she chuckles, like that explains everything, when it doesn’t at all, because Barry knows bees, and that’s _not_ a bee. It’s a misshapen, malformed, ugly facsimile of one, maybe. “You know I love bees.”

He’s too confused to even get the usual butterflies over her affection. “But... but it’s all wrong! Its head doesn’t have any definition from its body! It doesn’t have any arms! It doesn’t have any LEGS! Its wings are just... just circles! Where’s its nose? Why is it naked? Why’s it so big? Why—”

“Barry,” she sighs, still fond but now more amused than anything, shaking her head and getting that look in her eye when she’s being _human_ and he’s just not getting it. “We went through all this when I showed you my childhood teddy bear, remember? It’s just a stuffed animal. It’s not supposed to be perfect.”

He _really_ didn’t understand the bear. Bears aren’t cuddly toys. They’re honey-stealing monsters. Somehow, the bee toy is more offensive. It just looks like more human propaganda. But when he looks into her gorgeous face, he can tell she really did buy it because _she likes bees_ , and this dreadful nightmare is something that reminds her of someone she loves.

He can’t fight her on it. He loves her too much. The adoration on her pretty face melts him down, and he winds up just sighing, “Okay... so long as you’re not trying to replace me or something.”

“Pfft,” she scoffs, “are you kidding? Barry, it’s cute, but it’s not a total stud like you are.”

His grin matches hers, and he jests back, “I guess you’re right. I am pretty studly.”

“Totally!” Lifting her hand to cover her mouth and turning to him like she’s hiding a secret from their audience, she adds, “And can you believe this guy doesn’t even like jazz?”

“And you still invited him in?”

“What can I say? I’ve got a soft-spot for black and yellow.”

“Alright... I guess he can stay then.”

“Thank you.” And she blows a kiss at Barry, the real bee of the house. 

He flies up to give her a proper one, something the lifeless stuffed animal on the couch could never hope to do.


End file.
